Mohinder's Twelve Days of Christmas
by Besarien
Summary: What could be worse for Mohinder than Christmas with Agent Hanson? One cup of caffeine that she's not sharing and a serial killer spreading Yuletide cheer. SylarMohinder SLASH. No lords aleaping harmed in the making. The FBI didn't fare as well.


This is Sylar/Mohinder slash fan fiction. Yes, I know even the stores haven't put Christmas stuff out yet. Call me tired of procrastinating the inevitable.

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Mohinder's Twelve Days of Christmas 

Mohinder Suresh wanted a shower. He wanted to be somewhere other than sitting under cheap florescent lighting on this extremely uncomfortable chair in a dingy room than reeked of stale cigarettes and boredom. Finally the blonde with the dead eyes and demeanor of a pit bull entered carrying exactly one coffee in styrofoam meant for her.

"First, for the record I would like to say that my rights have been violated. I have been abducted from my automobile on Christmas. I have been charged with no crime, denied a phone call, and held here all day against my will."

"The only rights you have, Dr. Suresh, are the ones I decide to give to you. Therefore, it's in your best interest to cooperate fully with this investigation. Are you ready to make a statement?"

Suresh pulled his hands through his hair. These people were incredible! Hadn't he been trying to do that beginning fifteen hours ago when they first brought him into the building? Once again he reined in his frustration and reached down deep for his professionalism, "Of course."

Agent Hanson took a sip of her coffee with an amazingly annoying mmmmm. She took out a tape recorder, turned it on and placed it on the table between them. "Interview with Doctor Mohinder Suresh concerning all recent contact with the serial killer known as Sylar. Time is now twenty three hours, forty seven minutes."

"Your watch is four minutes slow." Fuck professionalism. They could have had professionalism fifteen hours ago. They could have had professionalism now for the price of a cup of caffeine.

Hanson took a moment to glare at him. "Date is December 25, 2009. How did Sylar resume contact with you?"

"On the first day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me the gold Rolex I am currently wearing and a lifetime guarantee that it will always keep perfect time."

"Nice watch."

"Yes, it is. On the second day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me two oatmeal cookies. He ate them both in my kitchen while I was brewing us some tea. Since I drugged and tried to shoot him, he prefers to watch me preparing food and drink."

"So he doesn't trust you. How do you feel about that?"

"I feel that he has every reason not to trust me. On the third day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me three dead Petrellis- Peter, Nathan and Claire. I was distraught for the rest of the day. He said he couldn't take back his gift, but would try harder to pick out things that I'd like in the future."

"I thought I was a crazy magnet. Then what?"

"On the fourth day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me four finger-shaped bruises on my throat. You don't want to know what we were doing at the time, or perhaps you do. In any case, I am not going to tell you, and would appreciate if you do not ask. On the fifth day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me five golden rings."

"I notice you're not wearing any of them."

"Not those sorts of rings. On the sixth day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me six million dollars in small bills that he said were taking up too much space. I have no idea from where the money came."

"Consider it confiscated."

"Yes, good luck with that. I donated every cent of it to charitable research. On the seventh day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me seven pairs of boxers in silk."

"What color?"

"I can safely say that you will never find out. On the eighth day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me eight kittens. He said he rescued them from a pillowcase in a dumpster. In case you are wondering they are all solid black. Would you like to confiscate them as pets, Agent Hanson? No? I didn't think so. On the ninth day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me nine planets in the solar system."

"He gave you planets?"

"He does have a bit of a God complex. On the tenth day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me ten of his teeth which he pulled out himself using a pair of pliers."

"Why?"

"The first was to see if it would regrow. It did, almost immediately. Why he pulled the rest is a matter quite beyond me. On the eleventh day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me the eleven volume set of the world atlas."

"Planning on leaving the country, Doctor?"

"No. That gift was for a mutual friend. I delivered it today just before your agents stopped my auto. On the twelth day of Christmas, Sylar gave to me-"

There was a loud bang. Then the door to the interview room crashed into the opposite wall. Sylar stood in the doorway wearing a police uniform and Santa hat. "-Twelve frozen FBI agents. I could be even more generous and make it thirteen?" Sylar asked Hanson pointedly.

Mohinder was relieved that she was smart enough not to draw her gun.

"We're done. You're both free to go."

"Good choice, Agent- ?"

"Jones," said Hanson. She reached to pick up the tape recorder and pulled her hand back when it melted into a puddle on the table. She seemed to contemplate saying something but decided against it. Then she left quickly.

"Did you miss me, Mohinder?"

"Regrettably, I have." Mohinder glanced at his watch. "It seems I have missed the rest of Christmas also. Happy Boxing Day, Sylar."

"Sorry I'm late."

Mohinder smiled. "You are early for New Year's."

Sylar grabbed his tie and pulled him into a quick kiss, before walking them both through the exterior wall and flying home.

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Go ahead and review so you can tell me just what a sick person I am. I'll love you for it! 


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